The Aftermath Of An Erotic Dance Off
by Grell The Leper
Summary: Sequel to "A Shinigami Dance-Off", but can be read by itself. Takes place the day after the "Big Office Party" from Will's point of view


_So this is a sequel to my other fan fiction, _A Shinigami Dance-Off. _It doesn't really measure up to the last one in my opinion, but I like it all the same. This one's told from William's point of view, because if I was to write that kissing scene from Ronald's point of view, it would mean that little Knoxie was quite the pervert XD_

_I think William is a little ooc, because really I'm quite terrible with that kinda thing, but I do hope it's okay._

_Anyway, enjoy, and review, k? __:) _

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji, Grell, William, or any of the other fabulous characters that appear in this story. I really wish I did though.**

**The Aftermath Of An Erotic Dance-Off  
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Sometimes, I feel entirely unappreciated. I am, after all, the one that keeps the whole Reaper dispatch running smoothly. The one that deals with all the overtime. The one that cleans up after Grell bloody Sutcliff.

But when I woke up the morning after the "Big Office Party", shirtless, in a bed that was most definitely not my own, with the worst hangover ever, I only felt like an idiot. And when I rolled over to find Grell sleeping next to me, I felt a sudden urge to whack my already aching head off a very large metal desk.

This could not be happening. I could remember drinking a lot of alcohol, I remembered the ridiculous "dance-off" and I most certainly remembered kissing Grell. Vigorously. But after hat was a blank and I was more than a tad concerned. Not that I thought Sutcliff would actually do anything to me while I was asleep, I knew he'd wait until I was conscious. Honestly, I was worried that I had done something stupid. I wasn't a drinker for a reason. The last time I had drank was two centuries earlier, and I had ended up stripping on a table, much to Grell's delight. Not one of my finer moments.

"Mm, good morning, Will, darling, did you sleep well? You're so cuddly when you're tired."

I froze, glaring at the red Reaper from beneath my fringe. I hadn't been expecting him to wake up so soon, my head was killing me, and I panicked. I had already hurt him once before and I couldn't let it go on again, not after last time. So I did what I thought I had to do.

"Sutcliff, my name is William, as you well know. Just because you decided to molest me in my drunken state doesn't mean you can be so informal. I am still your superior. Now do me a favour, get me my shirt and explain to my why the hell I'm in your bed of all places," I snapped, taking my glasses from the bedside table. I could see the hurt in his expression as he went to get my clothes, but I couldn't end the charade now. I was nothing if not consistent.

"Um, here, William. You spilt wine on your shirt last night, but your jacket and tie are fine. You passed out last night, and I couldn't find your keys, I didn't think you'd really mind if I just brought you back here. I suppose I was wrong," he said quietly, handing me my soiled shirt and my tie. He looked like he was about to cry, his big, green eyes already watering. I snatched my clothes from him and turned my back to get changed. I knew if I met his gaze, my cold front would disappear. He always did get to me so easily, and pretending to be angry at him was difficult enough.

"Will, why are you angry with me? You weren't mad last night. Don't you remember?" he asked. I'd never heard him speak so softly before. The Grell I knew was loud and outspoken, obnoxious at the best of times, but that was how I liked him. Hearing him now, barely hearing him at all, was almost painful. Once again, all of his pain was thanks to me.

"Remember what, Sutcliff?" I demanded, hating myself for it as soon as I said it.

"William.. We kissed.. With tongue! Don't you remember? A love as bittersweet as ours could never be forgotten so easily!" Images of the previous night flashed through my mind; Grell pressed against me, a pink blush across his cheeks, dark lashes fluttering. I could almost feel the soft material of his dress in my fist, his silky, smooth hair sliding through my fingers.

"No, Sutcliff, I most certainly do not remember, and I can assure you, there is no love between us to be forgotten in the first place," I retorted coldly, before walking out on the distraught redhead.

* * *

><p>Yes, that was a day that I felt far from underappreciated. That was a day that I could only feel like a complete and utter asshat. I couldn't stop thinking about Sutcliff, the kiss, the feel of his lips on mine. Ugh, I was turning into a mushy romantic.<p>

I only saw Grell briefly, once or twice throughout the afternoon. He was probably doing his best to avoid me. When I did see him, I'd only glare, and he'd get that same hurt expression he'd had this morning before quickly leaving. Speaking of glares, Knox had been giving me daggers all day, and I honestly didn't blame him, annoying though it was. Once, I even thought I could feel the Undertaker glare at me from behind his fringe. And when you can get the Undertaker to stop smiling, you know you're a dick.

Sighing loudly, I tried to get back to my paperwork for the fifth time in as many minutes, and was interrupted once again. Not by my thoughts this time, no, but by the subject of them.

"Here, William, your paperwork. It's all finished, signed and in order," he said, handing it to me. Sighing again, I glanced at it briefly, before placing it on the desk. Grell only ever did his paperwork when he was upset, or if he thought I was really angry with him, and it looked as though his mascara had dripped onto a few of the pages. He was just about to go again, and had I waited another moment, that would've been that, but I just couldn't help myself.

"Sutcli- Grell, wait, I'm sorry," I blurted, mentally scolding myself all the while. He stopped at the door, looking at me over his shoulder.

"For what, William?"

"For hurting you again. I'm an idiot, I know. I don't mean to. I'm sorry." Grell turned to me fully, a small smile on his face. He came over to sit on my desk, a habit he knew I detested, but I suppose that's why he did it. Leaning over to me, he was only inches away from my face as he asked;

"You don't really forget last night, do you Will?" I couldn't answer. I concentrated very hard on not meeting his eye and keeping my mouth firmly shut, but, of course, he was having none of that.

"Maybe I should remind you," he purred in my ear, and that was the last straw.

Pulling him off the table and into my lap, I pressed my lips to his. He let out a little gasp, giving me an invitation of sorts that I was more than happy to take, slipping my tongue into his mouth, though mindful of those razor-sharp teeth of his. I could feel his hands on my face, my chest, in my hair. He was everywhere and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Finally, I pulled away for air. His cheeks were flushed as he looked up at me from beneath those lashes. His heated gaze was driving me mad, but I knew I had to fix things before it lead to that.

"Grell, I love you. I can't believe you still bother with me, nor do I understand why, but I'm glad you do. I'm so sorry for hurting you, and I really hope you forgive me, but I the mean time, I'd be more than happy to make it up to you.," I confessed, and as he flashed me the first proper smile I'd seen all day, I dove in for another kiss, the first of many more to come that night.

**End**


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